Xi EII.OA N , 73ditgr.
_1- --
VOLUME 21.
N. • %.•
( .it t ttlllll
1
B. F. SI,OAN,
OFFICE., CORNER STATE .%k AND PUBLIC
SQUARE, ERIE.
1 1'ER31. 4 01 -
1111: PAPER. •
City sub-enters by. OW carrier, at el,nt
lit m,ui, tir at "dire,
'ball
If not paid in advance. or n 'thin three months (runt the tittle
Jollies tt ill be chargt.d.
7_1.111 17 01111111111 i C iOll. mart he pO.l paid.
ItATES OF ADVERTBSINd.
Cads not exceeding I lines., one y ea r. 63,00
i. 41113•0 , 10,00
do. do. PiX moutlw, 0,00
do. do. three 1000(1,•, 3,00
Thate•iritt adrerthentents, alcent• per inmate, of fifteen lines 01
tur the 1114 in•ertion; `II Cent, for each subsequent insertkiii.
2 I liearlt ad% crteer, hat e the pelt liege or changing at plea,tire,
bileat zio tune are allowed to (teeny!. more than Wu...pi:au, and to
br tumult! to t heir immediate hasinelA,
ll.lvvrti•vtavnis not liar mg other it ectionY, still be inserted till
Frrbul amyl charged accordingly.
Dl9 C 3 M 5/ D GI r.E . CO [l , l V.
ISM=
I'a•ldonahle Tailor. I•etlK'en the Iteod nom, and Ikon n's
1:1)1"1 . 1 NI: done on thou Melee. till
, OLIVER til'AFP ' olll),
nook,ller and FA:l6oller. and Manufacturer of...lllank Pod.s and
%Vriting luk. corer of die Diamond and lttlh ,Peel.
J. %V. DOUGLASS,
Anomry AND COl Nr.}.; lon AT I. %IN —thltce On .`'tare trccl, three
da,r• north of 11r6%%11•s Ifol, I. Crir.
C0311"1 ON & 11.1VER8T1CK,,
Pr} G9.'114, Ilardu art% erorlsery, 14,,rurivs, and Dor
rum' awl llumebtleaud Ilanufacnirurlol
.o..rann., No. F., lit llouze, and currier of French and Venn
: 4 ircut4, l'a.
J. 13. NICKLIN.
1 4 1%111%1. and general .Vl.. , ncy and Cunnair.siun Frank
1,1., 1'.4.
iturus"➢t!lEED,
I)rert uno, , h,Gerillail and .luu•r trail Ilattl%% arrant Cujlery
Al , o, Nails, Ail% 11on all No. :1 hied Uou,e
Et le, Pa. - •
W. J. F. 1.11)111.E & Co.
131.ACTZVItilq, State I 4 treet.
I% ecli & Erse.
L. STRONG
IMElll==ffi=
DOCT. J. L. STEWART,
tit 'HI a iii Dent. A. 8t nor, teveritl, near :ga,rafra.: went. Res
(./111.110nr 1101.01_1../1 Fcreueit
C. SIEGEL,
jthd Retr d l dealer iu Croceriod, i•dons,
Liquor+, brim, &C., &c l'orcf of Crench and Finn Cltructs,
(,1.[,-do the Hof I, rrie.
ME==
%Vila! rtr I , and floe I licalor in Cr0 ,. 10 , Y.
11'011, Mock,
The loglic,l 14114 ibt CU , llltr Pfnohltee. ,f
J. COA MANG.
:4111101i TAlT'on.anil niker 8.4211', Bloch,
(.4.1n ,•11,` the ltmwcll likch,r onc -'tra4, Erie
• J. W. NVETAIO It E,
.1 7"l' 0 1: 1: F _1
Lr \‘'allier . i,
HENRY CA DIV ELL,
nail :ail l)cii:er it; Diy Crarerie 4 ,
r 4 irtei, futir ducat., I clQw
Tine. Va.
ICC , . II( nail a general
A IIIIZSI . V Al lair and J.1.11.-C of the Peace—Office one door
%,e-t ul 1114.1,e- stun',
W. 11._,KNOWI,TON :31 N.
NCluch,, 1.6,16112 Gla , -" rornu'.
1.4•01 , , IVon•.`•le • iry, and a ‘.11'11: Fahey
.11110 di.urs huh, • 'ru'hu's
d•• l'a.
GE()110.1.: 11.
A t NAN, Comm), . Collretionq and
• cin , r :1111•11.!vil jilt PtOnlikille ,, tiros di-oalrli.
WILSON LA I ItO
A I er Wrwlit'., ith :Slur
%% 11:1111/11, Coln HUI",
lidaru p: “orktlier prkift,-11.11i;11 iltteilliCa 10 II illlprelllllt.
!Iv-, and 111,1,11011.
BRU\VNI IoT
I . .I:MLIttI lIIt Curl I. corner Of r , taic , trect autl the Public -.guar,:
Erie, I:t] , tent \Vested] mid F.]Alther]],p]ve
• B. A. CHAIN.
%Vt.:11...LE Llllll 11.111i1 ‘II I .IIer,IIIII . O.CLIC . I.
I.eileth , .. Nile, lklruil .11e, Ilut,cuii, Crackers, e.e.
l'a.
\v. IOORE.
Ur ‘1 FR in Grocerie., tns, 'Xtitc, I.ninor, Candies, Fruit,
&e., No ti, l'uor lion:, State !gr. rt.
V. I. CUTLER,:
Attorney & Contheller at Law, (1):Iice In 11‘change,
ituthdo, N. Y.
Collccting and commercial Ini-lat -; 1% tll recni‘n prompt attnnion. ,
Km arm —A . I'. Dt 14 NJ 01 t. tlitAscr.
iii KELLOGG,
Forwarding &Comta"ton Merchant, on the Public Dock, east of
State .t rent.
Coal. , Sali..Pla..ter and ‘Vlnfe Fish. coa.tc,naly for sale.
J. 11. IVILLIA3IS,
Illnukor and rAclireae Ilr.Aer. Dealer in t rlTills of rAcliallee,
Urn 11 certil.cole-of Irrposire. Cold and-111er coin, &c., &c.
Mice. I doors !glom. Ilro‘so's Erie,
131:NJAMIN F. DENNISON,
At:nevi AT Len., to—infire ou Sttperior An•et,
ui Atnater' , Block. Y,. fer f
Schnel: Ilan. ftwlnlid Fleteln r,
: , ,,:elll. Purl. ne..1:11 Wanen
%Vali e:, New York. for te,tinittnittle, re
tt.r W tin- office.
MARSHALL .V VINCENT,
A t - 1.0p0% , CI I 11%—f lilice up ,t,tir in Tammany Hall Lail hind
PrOl1101101r) . S Erie.
/%11) RICA 11'11A1.I.().N,
A n ot: sr r rT.o Cot x-r r rat A r I xtx over C. 11. Wright'r,
e• . eae,eatratrce ohe rloar %‘e.,t 'of state street, oil the lhatirothl,
1.(1e.
1. ROS ENZNVE 1(i & CO."
Wllot I \IP RETAIL DEA Lt It. in 1 . 0[1:4:11 Doule:De Dry
Don ,k. re:o4 maire (loth int!. fools and &c.. Nu. I. nem
-1,4; Block, State p:Dret. Env.
C. M. TIBIIALS,
DVA I %II h, Dry Coo,l•, Dry Groceric.t.,Crockery,
N. 111. I:rie.
JOHN ZININIERLY.
Fb .r.rn inGroceries and Provi.irmrs of all.kintle, Slate street, three
north of the Diamond s F:rie.
SMITH JACKSON,
flu! rein Dry Goods, Groceries, I rilware, Queens Ware, Lime,
Iron, Nally, &e., 121, Cheap: We, Erie, l'a.
'WILLIAM ItIIiLET,
(7'1.13.1T NT 110 r I , idiodder,, and Undertaker, corner of State anti
F.,entti ,drmtN, Erie.
KELM) & 1A)0311S,
GENi 51 I. l'( , rivanlitni.Priiihice and Oinsiiiii•on Merchants; dealers
•
in and line CO,ll, Plaster, Shingles, &Le:Public
ne , t •Ide el the bridge, Erie.
1:r.111‘ IV. Ir. 1.60,131
W - 11Ek.Elt COOK,
Grs.F rt ‘r. COIIIIIII.-4011 Produce '3leicliantg;Sec
and Ware - 110'1 , C CAA of the l'ohlic Ilrhlgo,
G. LOOMIS & Co.
DP ILFRA (I•ll:erlitaii l'I7lPO ritia
firittintim Ware Cutlery. raitcy Cowls, iilateittrect,
hearty oplK,e,te the Eagle Iletel, Erie,
0, Looltr,
C A 11:1' E &II ROTI I EAT
nflint.r.s t.r and Retail Ile:dery in limas, 7Sle , lielnes, Paints, Oils,
&e., No. U, Heed Iluu.e,
JOEL JOHNSON,
I fem.ru in TlicaloLlical, All•cellanevs , , Sun.lay owl Cl:L.:gen'
t•chuol 11,,065. Stationarv, ace. Park Row, 1:m.
•
J_ .NIES
r I'AII()VADLE Merchant Tailor, on the piddle square, a dew door.
(..t or Suite wee!, Erie. ,
1). S. PLAII - K,
FSAT.P. AND RE um Dealer to [1:110:12ril2S. Provisions, Ship
(114 ipl(cry.Stune - warc, &c. &c., No. 5,1101.11c111116ck, Eno.
-----
O. SPAI. F 0111).
Dealer in taw, ,;%ledical, _ellaneous Books stationary,
Ink .ke Salto ac.. four do..trs lid w the Public. :•tatare.
DR. O. L. ELLIIOI7,
Re-ldent 11 , nti•dt (Mice and dwelling In the Ileac took, on the
liaq snit` Ul the Public equate. Erie. Teeth in,crw't on l'"1,1
rim , . from one to au entire sett. Carman teeth fillud Walt pure
(101, 1. and reetored to health and tt.elnlttet... Teeth cleaned
wtlllin-truthents and Dentilice:,o an to leave them ill a pellucid
cleartm , .. All In ork warranted.
S. DICKERSON,
Puixi.•iev A ND SVISDFON—thliel! t t ins retideuee on Seventh woo,
oppotme the Methodist Church, Erie.
C. B. IVRIGHT,
IVIIn l l , ll.l.:A . ll,RETllE.dealer in Dry Good., Grocerie., Hardware
Uro'kerY. Glapew re. Iron Nall. Leather, Oils, &e., curlier of
and the public Fllttare,oppotite the Epale i lute! .Erte.
JOLIN li. BURTON.
WIIOLLSU :1 AND lILTAtt, dealer ill Drug., Medicines, Dye Stuff.,
tiroceriet. &e. No. 5 Reed Houte, Eric.
ROBERT S. lIUN'rER,
DrALre in Haiti, Cap. and l'uris of all dettriptions. No. 10, Park
Row 'Erie. Pa.
_..._,_-
)13_1;11T.It IVA firhito; good wanted
eschnogo for C. 0•11 or J. H. I , LLERTON.
LEAF 11.V1'S at wholesale; ale°, a large as-
Lip! Panama !mtg. Jut feCeli,c,l by
Jttfit. t J. 11.FULLIATON.
m, •,
- •
,
•
..42
i-7;
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..?
*
. .
-44 1 I B S .111441 It E
•
lIIIM
.4 IV
t I:rw, Pa
IFila/MIIN
Vottril tiO
TO MY MOTHER.
FROM TME'CENTRAL PR•R OV LIVE
fly J. CLEMENT
Look doirtt from thy ecie,tial home,
SVlthe oil the mount of life I stand,
,1121Cil my e}es through you blue dome,
toyiety thee in the Brighter Land.
Vould I CJllid bee thy radiant fate—
. The sun that hit my path of yore—
Whose ilea had mover afar to chase
The clouds that hung my childhood o•er
AteU6nka l'slioald a gliinlise obtain,
For !leaven cannot be far tinny;
1 bear at times a falling strain,
t3o frebli, it had not (hr to stray;
i list thy voice-1 know 'tis thine—
A hippie putter it In to thrill;
Its music here t% as half divine,
Hut there it hal:lan angel's trill;
0, could I catch the faintest berll/I
0 those meek eymi that bleA my youth,
Along the falure it would stream,
And gild afresh 'the path of Truth.
The thoughts of Heaven thus newly fed,
ftfy hopes of Ilerteett would hid revive;
%Vith limier step I then should tread
I The downward track front Thirtydive.
0 .110111 Cr, h^nd from thy high botile.
While on this lolly knit 1 t.taild,
Awl welch my e)e through you blue dome?
Tu viet thee itt the llrsjltter Laud.
Julie 19, 1,?."41.
The Benevolent Congressman.
Dr MRS. C. W. DENISON
”WitErtE can I get some plain sewing done?" I in
quired of a friend, who occupied with me a cheerful par
lor, in tho grate of which a coal fire snapped and burned
crri ly.
••1 am acquainted with n worthy 'woman who'takes in
work," was tho reply;_ • •If you hniir u mind to walk out
this bracing morning, 4 Will accompany you to her
bottle."
"With pleasure," said I; and in a feW moments,
cloaked and bonnoted;we steped upon the frost covered
parturient, and Proceeded briskly onward.
flow cold, but exilerating tho Mt! how clear the sun-
shine of that beautiful morning! and how the trees, gem
med with brilliants.that old winter (in an ague fit. I sup-
pose) had shaken from his coronet, sparkled and ironic
bled, as the red rays, with masterly touch painted s
thousand tints on each diamond and
We passed by the capitol; its Majestic 411 s glittered
in the aellow hue of the atmosphere like polished ala
baster. The trees, pOor leafless things, were the only
objects that seemed winter-like and desolate: Swaying
so mournfully, they reminded me of the rocking of some
poor old body, who setting by the cheerless hearth, keop
eth time to the monotone of her visionary thoughts reel
ing to and fro, as if it could assuage the bitter pang of
grief and loneliness. I sometimes think, too, when I
look at the bending branches, especially if the wind is
high, of the soothing, yet sublime melody, that I once
loved so well, and that to this day enchants all babydum.
"Rock a 1.1,;e baby upon the tree-top,
•tCt,cn the witut bleu., the cradle will rock;
When the tree breike, the cradle t; ill bill,
Down conies critic, tree, baby and all."
A long walk brought us to an humble oottage, una-
domed without, and cheerless looking iu the extreme.
Wo were ushered into a very comfortable room, neat
ly, though meagerly furnished, and my friend introduced
me to the widow lady, whom I wished to employ..
She was a middle aged woman; sorrow and care had
I left deep impress upon a_counteuuneo at - gin:l4 hand
some, and now beaming with good sense and intelli
gence. her dress was plain and humble, and the only
pretension to ornament was a tasteful cap, which very
becomingly contrasted with thud folds of her dark hair.—
In conversation site was fluent, though somewhat reserv
ed at first; and I could road tho dignity of a well bread
woman, in the retiring gracefulness of her deportment.
I admired het appearance, and formed a favorable opin
ion of her capacity.
After 1 had engaged her services, my friend and my
self' lingered sometime in conversation, and among oth
er things, mentioned a late visit to tho laicise of congress,
on the occasion of a speech from flab honorable Mr.
A-, which had attracted considerable attention. -
"What do you think,of Mr. A— as a speaker?" I
asked my friend.
"lle is eloquent, and, at times, sublime;" she answer
ed. "1 often go to the house when Ito ie to speck, tho'
1 don't liko the man. Flo chains the attention, be is
powerful in argument—and at the proper time, witty and
satirical; but—" she hesitated.
"Why do you not like hint?" asked the widow, with
an expression . of wopdor upon her countenance.
"0: ho looks so cold, so unfeeling, so ambitious. 1
believe it is his appearance mainly that displeases tne,
though 1 have heard that ho is heartless, and entirely
given to fame. his countenance is dark, designing, and
ho seems to me, like a plotter, merely a piece of mighty
machinery driven by the current, the impetuosity of
which nothing, save the drying up of waters, will arrest."
"You wrong him," said tho widow with much emo
tion; "you. do wrong him, and 1 am suro it is uncon
sciously." Why Mrs. C-, the man is all heart. It
is becauso his good deeds aro slimly performed, because
ho suffers not his loft hand to know whit his right be
stows, that ho is thus o: teemed. I can vindicate him; hoar
tne; and then judge for yourself. •
"Before I married I had' been accdstomed to the lux
uries of life, and when I gave my hand, on my bridal
eve, I had every reason to look forward to a bright and
joyous future; for my husband was iu a good business.
and never lived a kinder man than ho once was.
"You aro aware of his fall, Mrs. C—. After his
first failure, 1 gave up the small fortune my parents had
bequeathed to me, and with that, capital he again com
menced business., But his habits brought' on indilFer
cnco to his own interest; destitution, which he could
neither avert nor relieve, came upon him; he sickened,
and after lingering a few years, died, leaving me with
fedi. little children; myself in poor health, and no one to
take me by the hand and assist me in my poverty.
"1 obtained Some plain sewing, but it' brought mo in
very little money, and Mrs. C.—. there aro ladies
now in this very city, who daily pass me, richly attired
in silks and satins, who indulge in every new fashion;
whose purses aro never empty when they desire delica
cies, owing and the paltry sum of'•two or three dollars..
(or which 1 have called. repeatedly, in vain.
"Well things grew worse; 1 could hardly appear do
cent in the• street, for I sold. ono by one many of My best
articles of clothing, and they were not much—to purchase
food for my children. They, poor little things, grew so
shabby; (for I could mot got limn now clothes. of the
most common kind,) that at last I wee'obliged to keep
thorn from school. It almost broke my heart so to do,
but there was no help for it. I moved into this one little
room, a'bod, two chairs, and two old trunks, my only'
furniture. 0! many a. time I've sat' up all night. the
tears half blinding ino. nod falling upon my work. with
a bit of carpeting over my shoulders, without fire—warm
ing my fingers by the dim cilia's) flames, and pray to God
SATURDAY-MORNING, AUGUST 3, 185'0.
in such utter agony of heart. Day'by day I grew poorer;
my rent becamo'due, and, paltry as the sum was, I could
not make it up.
Plum my landlord had a kind heart, so I stated to him
frankly all my trials, mid he consented to wait another
month, although he was himself a poor man; I deter
know him to distress' a tenant. Well, stonier month roll
ed round, and I was worse (Althea over. bly little ones,
for want of proper food, bad become thin and ailing. I
had considerable work, rind fur one month had received
no compensation (front a lady) for sewing, with whirl'
she bad provided me. 1 had toiled incessantly, with a
severe pain in my side, constantly tormenting me. 1
could Like no exercise, and when I reeeived or carried
home my work, I always went in the evening, because
my dress was so very mean; and the (poorest have pride,
you know," she added, smiling.
"Welk, the thought that L might yet possibly ho
ed to go Ito the poorhouse, almost distracted me; it tore
my heart In two. Y p u see I would have put my chil
dren ou\, lAit they were ulllso small, the eldest only Mao
years of age. Nobody would take them while they could
get strong, hearty ones, who could do twice the work.—
You may judge how I felt, when 1 gazed around this
apartment; a trunk by that window, a bed on the floor,
On which wo all managed to sleep, another trunk in the
middle of the room which served for table and scat, and
a scanty supply of brown dishes in the cupboard yondek
Tints my children, almost always setting around the room
for they had grown listless, and I could not, I could not
let Mem out to associate with Me vile creatures that
flock in this part of the city. No 1 thought that if God
took them to himself, they would at least go before him,
puro and uncontaminated; . and would rather mourn over
them in their coiling, than they should grow up degraded
—oh! far Lauer death,
"On Saturday night I was nearly desperate. I hnd not
then a cent in tiro house, my children had eaten but little
food that day, and what was I to do for the morrow? 0!
Mrs. C—, you know not, you cannot imagine how
terrible a thing it is, to gaze into the wan fa . ces of your
own innocent little 'nibs, who linvo never known or dune
harm to aught in this world, for whom you would wil
lingly die, and feel that they are, though so patient and
dutiful, and loving, never sat - istied with a hearty, whole
some meal; to dole out their' porridge to them, as if they
were so many little animals, and while your heart is
breaking, to hear them asking for more, as they say so
piteously, 'Mother, 1 hav'nt had half enough.' "
I shuddered; the picture was drawn very vividly.
And so I felt for a while that night, as if it would be
no sin to steal, if an opportunity occurred, but the Lord
banished that evil desire, and put better ones in my
mind; and I do not know as ever I prayed more fervent
ly than I did then; that ho would guide me.
"The only hope I now had, was, that the lady I have
-mentioned, who owed mo nearly sixd 4 ollars, and to whom
aO I said, I had given up my time exclusively, would
that night pay me. I hail twice asked her for money,
but she said on each occasion;' "You will have to wait
a little, I have not the money by me—come again." It
is very bitter, that little sentence, coma again, to the
working poor, it makes the disappointed heart bleed at
every pore, I can assure you.
I mustered up stittiuiont resolution, and after I had put
•my children to bed. two of whom were very unwell.
hurried on my faded shawl, and my dingy bonnet. and
with shoes worn nut 'along the sloppy pavement, the wa
ter completely saturating my feet at 'every step.
. 1 gained the huubo whmo this lady boarded;
and after 1 had seen the scrvant,,stood in the entry, await
ing, her uppeuranCe.
••While listening to the merry tones of a piano. and
the quick happy laugh of children oh! how they tortured
me! the lady, richly dressed, came down stairs, expec
ting no doubt, to see some one of her friends.
“Iler countenance changed instantly, .0: is it you?'
she asked careh?,sly, while she played with her gold watch
guard, •yliut do you want to night?' 1 have no more
vurk cut out just yct."
6.1 thought of my little ones, and I 'said firmly, 'lt you
could spare me that money you owe mo, or some of
"She hastily interrupted me, by inquiring haughtily.
'Why do you teaso me in this way? Have I notldways
paid you? 1 tell you I have% the money now, you must
wait, you must not be so importunate."
" But." 1 replied, and 1 kep; back my leers wilt an
iron will, .iny children have nothing for to-morrow, they
will go hungary all day; if you could—"
"I can't do anything fur you to-night," ' sho replied
coldly, "and as to your children having no food, I don't
know—those that do right aro always provided fur borrow
a littlu front your neighbors; for I really havn't the money
to spare."
"Mrs. C." exclaimed tho widow, with n burst of indig
nation, "I never have received the money yet; and had
she then given it to mo after such a speech, I would have
thrown it back at her Lavin; I would have spurred tho
gold, or torn the the paper into. bitS, precious as it
might ho.
••I strove again and again to speak, as she was turning
away. My tongue was paralyzod, my oyes felt stony and
dry; but my blood was boiling;g am sure, now, that every
vein swelled with t h e excess of my feeling. No wood,
no food in my poor homo; and yet she, the child of lux
ury could thus taunt me.
grew excited," she added, abruptly, striving to smile
'but indeed the very receollection of that night is torture
—may she be forgiven. I moved. trembling • both with
grit and anger, to tho door, tottered along the street—tho
rain began to fall in heavy drops, but toy limbs were lea
den; I dragged them with diflie.ulty. Painful grow. tho
rush of thought; my sorrow seemed like great waves;
each maro terrible than the other, boating against :the
heart, that was failing, sinking every moment. I clas
pod my hands. and in the still' darkness prayed Audibly
for tears. If might but weep, 1 thought surely this
agony wilt pass away and tears come to my relief. En
tirely overpowered, I sat upon the steno wall of the Capi
tol yard, and sobbed aloud.
"It raised yet more violently; and my thin clothing was
saturated. Chilled through as I was, if ono had told me
was perishing, I should not havo k4wn it. No indeed!
home, home, my poor wretched home, was all my minds
eye saw; the cupboard empty the hearth cheerless, the
rainias I knew it was. beating, in; tho half warm children;
God's creatures, as much us the proudest and richest.—
AM do you wonder 1 knew nothing else? Poor little
lambs, beautiful and helpless, sick and cold—however,
It is all past now,' and also wiped tho tears front her eyes
"l don't know how long I sat there, but I believe I was
netting numb-like, when I heard stops approaching. 1
suppose I was sobbing, before use, and said, ratherquick
ly,
'Who aro you? what's the'snatter, for heaven's sake?'
have nothing in the house to-morrow; my children
41 sutler another day fur fuo:l—' autt . that was all t could
sty.
••Whcro do you live?"
"Ou—avouuo."
"How do 1 know but you are an impostor?"
••Sipco, thinking - of thoso words, and I cannot blame
hint for speaking lig ho did; but indeed, my blood roused
again, and I could not forboar exclaiming, •You aro too
cruel sir.••
"I will go with you," said he, with a chongod man
nor, "I will go home with you, and eoo if you ttro worthy.
L did not tucon to dietzoco you, no, no." -
"And he cam here to thil cottage with we. Lt was
LONWAIID...Ai
much oUt of repair; it looked worse than it does glow.—
I opened the door."
"My dad:" was his'only exclamation, as ho gazed
arround by the dim light of a failing taper.
"My Nth" Mary. you see, had crawled to tho faro place
and thorn she sat. so unoarthly itt her alppearanee, raving
in the delirium of fever; I novcr shall forgot how she
looked, such a burning bright spot on each cheek, such
staring glassy eves. Thu others wero all awalto, all
more or less alarmed and weeping.
"I thought you was dead,' screamed link Eibby, as
ho sprang towards me."
"And :nary has been screeching and saying all man
nor of dreadful things. Ilannalt exclaimed. as I took
up tho now oximustod child, and walked tho room, hush
ing her upon my bosom."
"My God, is this possible in a christian country:" tho
man exclaimed again, and the largo tears wore rolling
down his cheeks.
"I'll send you somo holp; sand you : what I can to
night." ho continued. hastening away.
"I could not answer; my poor sick child claimed my
whole attention. In a little while a physician callod;
servant accompanied him, with a largo bundlo of llanuol's
and comforters. Tho doctor prescribed, a little bad was
muds on the fluor, and my baby laid in it. After tho doc
tor went away and somo wood sent to mo, enough to last
mo till the morrow; a stout woman camp; with bread and
provisions packed tight in a basket, whit:h i oho brought
with her.
"How thankful I was, as she bent down over the black
hearth, and kndled a cheery red blaze, 'that soot its
warmth ail over tho room. Aly eyes ran over with grat
iitudo, as she unpacked her basket end exposed to my
view such luxuries as I had seldom soon for year*. Tho
childron ate greedily, tato as it was; for how could I deny
them? poor hungry link creature it was sweet
to be
hold thorn for once satiJied;'and then, when they laid
down again, how nico it was, to tuck them comfortably
under thick, warm blankets—l assure you, I was thank
ful to God that night.
"On the MorroW tho doctor called; Mary was bettor,
he said. In a little while, the woman came again and
brought some dolicacit•s; some jollies for the sick 'child;
was it riot very thoughtful?"
"That day was, ono of comfort. - I really owe it to my
joy, that I felt no unpleasant etncts, Iron my exposure to
the rain on the previous night.
"Monday, thO first thing that greeted my sight early
in the worning, Was a huge roll lof good common carpet
that you see upon my fluor some pieces of strong cotton
caliCoes, in which to dross children—and, standing out
side my door a load of wood. Byo and bye, holf a dozen
chairs, a good cookiUg stove, provisions, with number
less little thingi ) essential to my comfort wero sent .ma
by that kind hearted man. My rent was discharged work
furnished me, fur which 1 received liberal pay and since
then 1 have not known absolute whist. My children, the
two I have with mo(ke provided good places for tho
eldest)—go 'neatly attired to school, and aro rosy and hap
py. The next Limo this good man called, 1 took the lib
arty to inquire his name. It was Mr. A—af whom
you had formed an opinion so unfavorublo.
"God ahower blessingwon him; for never, never can
I sufficiently thank him. Now what rld you think!"
"That I shall go and hear him, this very day;" an
swered Mrs. C-, looking smilingly towards me;"
whOtiirivited yesterday, by a friend, to bo present in the
house today I declined; but I shall go; and I have no
doubt, that hard, dark face, will look almost angolic to me.
rudiont as it will appearto my imagination , with tho holy
beauty of charity,"
Court Dress of a Young Woman from Boston.
We find in -an English paper the fellAviiig desCription
of the dress wo ill by Miss Lawrence, {ho daughter of
our Minister to England; at a late drawing room, whore
she was presented to the Queen of Englund:—
"'titan of rich white Moire, trimmed with huilloaes
of tulle and bouquets of roses do Mai, lined with white
glace. with three skirts of tulle, looped with chalduino
of roses de Mal; bIOUII3 bertho.—Head dress. Feathers,
blonde lapplets and diamonds. Ornaments—Dia
monds."
We Intro an idea that this costume would contrast
somewhat curiously with the SuUday go-to-meeting ap
parrot of Miss Lawronco's grand mother. Lot us see.
The old lady. if wo mistake not, was tho wife of a poor
laboring tanner. liar costume must Imo boon as 'fol
lows: 13ohlico and skirt of hussy woolsoy, spun, woven,
cut out, and made up with her own bands; looped nt the
sides with both hands, when the road to church happen
ed to Ito muddy.
She had no "blonde berthas" wo pFliovo, niche as
AOlllO of the Ltwrenees ore of fair complexion', rho may
have had several births of blondes.-load dress, a mob
cap. Ornament, a contented smile on the lips, atm a
prayer batik or bible in the hand. High hooted boots of
kip leather laced abovo tho anclo, and potions in wet
weather.
Lord: if tho old woman could only wakti up and sea
her grand-doter. how it would astonish her republican
simplicity, especially, the buillones of hullo, the three
skirts of tulle, tho chuldaino of rosos do Mai, the (auth
ors amid diamonds:
Rothschild is forced to content himself with the aama
eky as tho poor newspaper writer, and the great banker
cannot order a privato sunset or add ono ray to the mag
nificence of the night. Tiro same air swells all lunge.—
The seam isnd of blood fills all veins. Each one posses.
see, rosily, only his own thoughts and his own !anises.—
Soul and body—these aro all the properly which man
owns. All that is valuablo its this world is to be had fur
nothing. Genius, beauty, and love aro not bought and
sold. YO3 may buy a rich bracelet, but not a well-turn
ed arm on which to wear it=-a pearl necklace but not is
pearly throat with which it shall via. The richest bank
er ml earth would vainly offer a fortuno to be able to write
n verso like Byron. Ono comes into the worl d nuked
40 goes out naked; the difference iu the finoness.of a bit
of linen for a shroud is not much. Man is a handful of
clay, which turns rapidly hack agan into dust.
There are boys who think themselves men, and who
go to barber's shops to ber ••barod." Via heard of a ju.
venile who went to to scraped, and the barber having
adjusted the cloth, and soaped his smooth chin, left him:.
and went lounging about theiloor. As soon as the young
•'gent'! sand him sauntering, be impatiently called out—
what are you leaving me all this time here
for?''
.•I'm waiting until your beard grows," replied the wit-
ty harbor
EXRCOTION.—Geo. %V. livens, a young mam con
victed of murder, was executed at Macon, Geo.. on
Friday, sth instant. in presence of an immense con
course of persona. He was born and reared amid
profligacy and crime, which had combined to destroy
the better impulses of his,nature. The Macon Wm-
Fenger says:
"ths the scaffold he warmed themes , of the coon-•
try to beware of his example, add shun the ways of
wickedness, which led to the ignominious gallows;
ankin alluding to the teachings of his own sinful
mother, gave fearful warning to the mothers of the
land to took well to the habits and conduct of their
Children." •
O A pioua African at Lousville•etumbled while
walking, one very dark night, and was pitched head
foremost down a.cellar, which afforded him 'an "open
entiance." Springing to his feet, he exclaimed,
"Dress de Lord dat I lit on my head!' If die nigger
bad scraped Ida shins so brad, 1 spec ho broke hie
leg:"
A Passing Thought.
The Thoughtful Barber.
£LOVE THE LADIES-EVERY ONE.
I love the ladles, every oue—
, The laughing ripe brunette.
Those dark-eyed daughters of the gun,
With tresses black las Jet. -
What raptures in their glances glow!
Ric( tints their cheeks disclose,
nd in the little dimples there
Young smiling Loves repose.
'I love the ladies, every dne—
The blonds su .oft and fair,
With looks FO mild and languishing, -
And bright and golden hair.
How lovely arc their sylph-like forms,
Their alabaster hue,
And their blushes far more beautiful
Than rose-buds bathed in dew.
I love the ladies, eiery one—
E'en those whole graceless forms
Are tugged as the oak that's borne
A hundred winter's storms.
The young, the old, the stout, the thin,
The short as well as tall,
Widows and wives, matrons and mail/.
Oh! yes, IL love theta
1 love the ladies, every one— •
None but a wretch wo•tld flout 'emi
This world would ben lonely place
If we were left without 'cm.
Dui lighted by a wontou's smile.
Away all gloom is driven,
And the most humble bonne appears
Almost a little heaven.
I love the ladies, every one—
They're angels all. 1:0,1 Meld 'cite
And what call greater pleasures site
Than comfort and eare.s 'cull
I call myself a temperance mail,
Ezell drink their health In water—
Ilere'i; to the mother, one and r.II,
And every mother's daughter!
A TOUCHNG STORY.
But 1 desire now to narrate to 'you a circumstance
which happened in the family or a fikond and correspon
dent al mine in the city of Boston, sbmo ton years ago,
the history of which will commend itself to the heart of
every father and mother who has auy simpathy with, or
affection for, their children. I was convinced of this
when I opened the letter from L. 11. B--,which
nouncul'it, and in tho detail of the' event which was sub
sequently furnished me.
A few weeks before ho wrote, ho had buried his oldest
eon, a fine, ntauly little fellow,,of some eight years of age,
who had never, he said, known a day's illness until that
which finally removed him hence to be no more. flis
death occurod under circumstances which was peculiar
ly painful to his parents. A younger brother, a delicate,
sickly child from its birth. tho neat in age to him, had
been down for 'tarty a fortnight with an epidemic fever.
In consequence of the nature of the disease, every pre
caution had boon adopted that prudence suggested to
guard the other members of the family against it. But
-of this one, the father's eldest, he said he had little fear./
so rugged was l lie, and so generally healthy. Still, how-ii
over, he kept 4 vigilant eye upon him, and especial!
forbade his going into tho peels owl (belts near hi'
school, which it was the custom' sometimes to visit; ft‘r
ho was but rrboy , and boy 4 will be boys, and we outt , t
more frequently to.think that it is their nature to .
Of all natural things, a reproach almost to childish fr irk
noss and innocence, save the from a boy man:' But
to the story.
One evening this unhappy father came home, wea
ried withal long day's labor and vexed at some litt o dis
appointment, which hud soured his natural kind dispo
sition, and rendered him peculiarly susceptible to the.
smallest annoyance. %Vitae he was sitting by t o fire in
this unhappy mood of mind, his wife entered a o appart
moat and said:
"floury has just come in, and hp is a perfe fright; ho
is coveriid from head to foot with dock mud, nd ho is as
wet as a drowned rat." I
"Where is he?" asked the father, stern! .
"Ile is shivering over the kitchen fire. le was afraid
to come here, when the girl told him, y u hail coin°
home."
"Tell Jano to fell him to come hero th' ins tont," was
the brief reply to this information.
Presently the boy mitered, half perisl d with a fright
and cold. His father glanced at his ea 'Flight, rerproah-'
ed him bitterly with his disobodianco, , poke of the pun--
i 'imam which awaited hint in the in ming us the pen
shy for his dream and, iu a bars voice, concluded
w ith—
"Now sir, go to your bed:"
"But father," said the little ful 4 :., "I' want to tell
you—"
"Not a word, sir; go to your beds"
".1 only wanted to say, father. t ot—"
With a peremptory stamp, an imperative wave 01
his hand towards the door, and a , own upon his brow.
did that father , without another a each. again close the
door of explanation or. eipostal tine. '
When his boy had Bon o sup °flees and sad to his bed,
the father sat restless and une y while the supper was
being prepared; and, at the t table, ate but little. His
wife saw the real cause or the dditioual came of his emo
tion, and interposed the rem r 114.-
"I think my dear, you ou ht at least to ` have heard
what Henry had to say. It • heart ached for him when
ho turned away. with his yes full of tears. Henry fs a
good boy after all, if he d o s sometimes do wrong. Ho
door, an d
a tender hearted, afree onata 14. Ile always was."
And therewithal the w ter stood iu
,the oyes of that
forgiving mother, oven as t stood in the oyes of Mercy, 'in
tho house of the Interpr er,' as recorded by Bunyan.
Atter toe, the 01 , 00;11 paper was taken up; but there
was no news and nothi ; g of interest for that father in the
journal of that evening Ho sat for some time in au ev-
idently painful revery, nd then rose and repaired to Isis
bed-chamber. As he passed the bed room whine the
little boy slept, he thi ght he would look in upon him
before retireing to re- . A big tear had stolen down the
boy's cheek, and res ed upon it; but he was sleeping
calmly and sweetly The father deeply regretted his
herahnoss as ho gaz -d upon his son; he felt also his ' sense
1 of duty;' yet in the tight. talking the matter over with
the lad's mother, me resolved and promised, instead of
punishiug as he t reatened, to make anientleto the boy's
aggrieved spirit ii the morning, fur the moaner in which
ho had repelled .11 explanation of his offence.
But that mor i
health. He aior
in his brain, a i
was in his slir , •
mother. who di
of any tnomo t
token of rec.., I
did that null - r
son. Onee
nition li , .
ward; for I
one kind i
that glen , .
and was •I
the wild r
death cr l
Taro
coffin.
bringi
ling ever came to that poer child in.
oke the nest morning with a raging fever
id Wild with delinstn. In 4d hours he
lie knew neither his father nor his
(they were first called to his bed-side, nor
it afterward. Waiting, witching for one,
pillion hoar after hour in speechless agony.'
ippy father bend over the concha( !undying
indeed, ho thought he saw a smile of recog
up his dying eye. and be leaned eagerly fer
ia would have given worlds to have whispered
rord in his oar, and have boon answered; but
of apparent intelligence passed quickly away.
succeeded by the leekd eninettning glare, and
tossing of the fevered limbs, which lasted until
me to his
: I
I
tht: l ;
SEM
/days afterward the trOertaker came with a little
and his son. a playmate of the deceased boy.
ig the low stub on which it wu to stand in the
hall.
Gutsy
”li
was with henry."' said the lad. "When he got into
vater. We were playing down on Long Wharf.
11150 a WEAIt, i
Henry. Charles Munford and and the tide was out
verylow; and there was a beam ran out from the wharf ;
and Charles got on it to get a fish line and hook that
hung over where the water was deep, and the fmottbiai
we saw ho half slipped off and was struggling in tyre *l4
ter: Henry throw off his cap and jumped clew ffom the
wharf iuto the water, aud, after' a great deal of bard
work, got Charles out; and they waded up through the
mud to where the wharf was net so wet and slippery;
and thou I helped them climb op the side. Charles told
Henry not'to say anything about it, for if he did his Path=
erwould never let him go near the irate r again. Heart
was very sorry, and all the way going home ho kept say ,
ing—
"What will father say when ho sees me to night? I/
wish wo had not gone near tho wharf!"
"Dear, bravo boy!" exclaimed tho bereaved father;
"aud this was tl o explanation Which I refused to hear:'
And hot and Wer tears rolled down his cheeks. •
Yes, that stern father now learned, and for the fiiihi
time; that what ho had treated with unwonted severity -
as a fault, was but the impulse of a generous nature s
which, foigetful of self, had hazarded life for another.—
It was but the quick prompting of that manly spirit which,
he himself had ulwaya endeavored to graft upon his see
coptible mind, and which, young as her was, had always ..,
manifested itaelf on more than. ono occasion. '
Let me clos l o this story in the very words of that fath
er, and let tle lesson sink doep into the hearts of every
parent who shall peruse this-sketch. ;
"Every thing that I now see, that ever belonged to him. % t
reminds tuna my lost - boy. Te l sterday I found some I
pencil sketChes which it was his delight to make for the
amusement of his younger brother. , To-day, in intuit
ing an old/closet, I came across hi* booty, still covered
with dock mud, as when ho last wore them. (You may
think it s i trunge, but that which is usually so unsightly
an objel is now most -precious to sane .') And every
is
morning nd evening I pus the ground where my son's
voice rat g the merriest among his playmates.
".111 / h cso things - speak to me vividly of his life; But 1
cannot' though I have often tried—l cannot recall Silly
other e pressiou of my dear boy'ii face than that mourn
ful ontl with which he turned from-me on the nights Jaw
harsh
1
y repulsed him. Then my heart bleeds afresh!" .
Oh' how careful should we all tio in our daily condizet
tows' d those little s beings sent ukby a kind Providence.
that ve are not laying op for ourselves the sources of
I
r
inn . a future bitter tears flow cantiensl,that, neither
by i considerate nor cruel word or look, wi unjestly
gri' ve their generous feeling action against its motives
lee, in a moment of excitement, we be Mato give to the
ial errors of the heart, the puniahment due only no ,
W Ifni crime •
Alas! periraps few parents suspect bow often Metered
ebuke„ the sudden blow is answered in their children by
he tears, not of passion nor of physical or mental pain,
but of a loving yet grieved or outraged nature.
Test of Affection.
Mr. Archibald Stanhope. a groggory sentimentalist.
residing, in Buckly street Philadelphia—con c eived the hat
rowing suspicion that his wife was not so passionately
fond of him as a lady of good taste should be; and to put
ho matter to a fair trial. ho hit on a little stratagein which
to put in practice the other day. with the multi tierce
or to be detailed,
Ile took n snit of clothes, and composed an effigy of
himself, by stuffing the garments with asuantity of straw,
which had lately been discharged from an old bed. Hay—
ing,suspended this figure to a rafter in the garret. by
moans of a piece of clothes-bne, he ense r enscd himself
behind a pile of rubbish in the same garret. to watch thy
effect.
After a while lii little daughter came op after a jump
iirg-riope, and caught a glimpse of the splendid figure.—
She ran down the stairs screaming:
"Oh, mother, mother, daddy has hang himself."
"Now for it,"-thought Archibald, in ambuscade; "we
shall have a touching scene presently."
"Hung himself:" ho hoard Mrs. 8. repeat, OS she wal.
ed leisurely up ( stairs; "he hasn't got spank for such •
thing, or he would havo done it long ago. Well, I belieie
ho has done it. howover," she continued as she amse is
view of Archibald's straw representative. (WM*
little girl) I think he ought to be cut down. Yeti bad
batter go into the kitchen and get a knife. my dear. but
don't go down too fast, or you might fall and hurt your
self. Stay-1 forgot—there's no knife in the kitchen
sharp enough. You can go around to Mr. Hamm the
shoemaker, in Sixth street, he's oply two squares off. and
ask him to' lend us his paring knife; tell him to whet it
little beforo ho sends it. And, Molly, while you aro In
the neighborhood you can call at your Aunt Sukey's and
ask how the baby is. And, Molly, you can atop at the
groCery stoic, as you como hack, and get a potted of sev
en cent sugar. Poor Archy:" sighed Mrs. S. wh i r hes
daughter had departed, "1 bopo wo'll get him down be
foro tho vital spark's extinct—for- this burying is very
troublesome, andcosts money. Ile wanted to pet an
end to himself, too; and I think I ought to let him have
his own was for once in his-life; he used to say 1 was al
ways a 'crossing Bins, I wish be had't spoiled that new
clothesline—au old rope might'have answered his pur-
pose."
Hero a voice, which sounded like that of the supposed
suicide, broke in on MM.' Stanhope's soliloquy. with
"You confounded Jezebel. I'll be the death of yon:"
Mm. S. thinking this must of coirse . be a ghostly es.
clamation, uttered a wild scream, and atternpktd to es
cape down the narrow staircase. Archibald, startiag
from his place of concealment. gave chase. • Mrs. S.
stumbled midway on the flight of stairs, and hlr. S. hav
ing just reached her, and made a graspat her dishevelled
hair as it streamed backwards, the,emiabte partrieto
were precipitated to the bottom together.
Both ices rather badly bruised, and the cries, of the
lady raised tho neighborhood. Archibald was arrested
for making disturbance, and practising en the tender
sensibility of his wife. He was recogaized is and
jocularly proposed his impended effigy us his surety—.
but, he found to his sorrow, "straw , bail" Wale net accept
able under the administration of Mayor hum —Foamy'.
sea ian. •
' lady making inquiries of a bey about his father.
au intomporato man who had boon sick fdr some time.
asked whether ho had regained his appetite. "No ma'-
am," ;saes the boy, "not exactly; his appetite is Tory
poor, but his tkinkatite is as good u over."
How To DO 'sr.—Peach says—to resuscitate a drows
ed Yauks‘o—search his pockets.
To resuscitate a drew:tea Englisktnert—broil a piece
of beefsteak under hituose.
A Frenchman may be brought to life at any tiros, try
the skillful imitation of a bull frog iu his ear.
A Spaniard, by applying garlic to , his oltactoriert.
hlr.vitron w sleighing party, as the upturned
rips of a Young lady IVoro prepared to meet those of the
'•mnn of her heart," a snow-flake• fell upon them and
Was instantly dissolved; “I will take a warning'* said
the beau. "aud'witl not tempt my fate."
ST Somebody says that in spito of alt the assilieal rya•
toms of the'day, a sick minister, wb. kas a rich contra-
Ration. can only bo cored by a voyawr to Europe. A cu.
lions fact in therapeutics
Mr The following. which we find in an exchange, lute
• pretty good wrath to it:—"Why is a good sermon like
a kiss? Do you givo it up? Because it only requires
1100 fluids and an oppliattion!"
Adva ace.
NUMBER Ild